


Thrill-Seeking

by Vector



Category: Discworld
Genre: BDSM, M/M, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-01
Updated: 2008-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-02 16:08:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vector/pseuds/Vector
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Okay, by now it was probably mostly horseradish. But with Vetinari the beef was never the point to begin with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thrill-Seeking

Moist was aware, in a vague sort of sense, that in Adora Belle's bizarre analogy about horseradish sandwiches he was probably well on the way to letting the beef fall out. (And somehow that statement had acquired even more inappropriate connotations in the face of his current situation.) But it had to be different, somehow, when the beef was hardly the point to begin with?

After all, it wasn't like he had ever come to Vetinari's chambers for... but what would "normal" sex with Vetinari be? It was impossible to imagine. It should have been impossible to imagine any sort of sex with Vetinari, but here he was.

In any case, the physical act itself was... well, it wasn't _unpleasant_, of course. But if that was all he wanted there were much easier ways to get it, most notably in his own apartment without anyone else's participation. It would probably be a lot safer, too.

But that was the point, really; it was the thrill that made it good, like it always did. It was the thrill that had found him climbing into a palace window that first night, the heightened squadrons of guards only making it easier to find a way past them.

It was just a challenge; he hadn't actually expected to encounter Vetinari. But the Patrician had quietly rounded a corner in a black dressing gown, looking supremely unsurprised. He had _raised an eyebrow_.

And Moist had realized even as he froze in fear that he was devastatingly aroused. Some of it was the high from the break-in. The rest certainly wasn't from the sight of the Patrician's bare skin, but Moist couldn't say that it had entirely nothing to do with his presence.

Vetinari had smiled thinly and said, "What a pleasure to see you, Mr. Lipwig."

"I was just here on a bit of Mint business," The easy lie fell from Moist's mouth without conscious thought. "Uh, one of your clerks—"

"Is that so." Vetinari cut in, and it wasn't a question.

And then Moist was pinned against a wall—which was ridiculous, because Vetinari didn't _touch_ people —and the only thing he could think was _I'm going to die_, but his nerves didn't seem to be getting the hint to panic.

Vetinari speared a few fingers through a hole in Moist's tunic, where it must have torn when he'd caught it on a protruding cobble. "I wasn't aware my clerks were this... rough."

"I—" And then Vetinari's fingers slid across the scraped skin underneath. With Moist's skin as oversensitized as it was it should have hurt like hell, but mostly it just felt like _too much_, and Moist choked back a gasping sound.

"Hm," Vetinari had said, like he was a particularly interesting document, and then _slid his hand down Moist's pants_, and Moist was coming in a few strokes, before the shock receded.

So that was how it had started. It still seemed kind of unbelievable. But no matter the thrill, it was never enough, Moist had learned. He had to keep pushing at the edges.

And now he was sprawled on Vetinari's bed—well. A bed in the castle; it seemed unlikely to be the one Vetinari actually slept in, if indeed he ever slept. Sprawled on a bed, anyway, with his hands bound behind his back and a blindfold across his eyes.

The bondage they'd done before. The goal was to get himself out of it without Vetinari noticing—although Moist was never quite certain if Vetinari actually missed things or just pretended to. He supposed this served Vetinari well in general.

The other thing was that Moist was absolutely certain that if Vetinari was inspired to, he could bind Moist well enough that he'd never find a bit of slack, even if Vetinari left him here to struggle forever. Which Vetinari could also feasibly do. It lent the scenario a certain extra edge.

The blindfold was new, though. As was the... whatever Vetinari was using. Something small, sharp and pointed. Thus far he had just skimmed it across Moist's skin, but—

The implement pierced through skin on Moist's chest in a moment of sharp, bright pain. Moist had never liked pain, but he shifted and moaned anyway. A distraction for Vetinari, as he thought he had a thumbnail under a loose hoop of cord. Something about that shifted the feeling, and the next time Vetinari applied his needle-thing, Moist's moan was natural and his hips bucked up.

Vetinari's whip-quick hand caught the wrist that was pulling at his bindings. "Good try."

Moist bit back a curse.

He could hear Vetinari's thin smile in his voice. "Shall we let you try again, or are you taking your forfeit?"

Moist could let them stop this, just get fucked and be done with it. It would be good - his whole body seemed to burn with want.

"Try again," he said instead.


End file.
